WetMalissa 160 Posted July 10, 2017 Popular Post Share Posted July 10, 2017 I was beyond desperate by the time I pulled into the grocery store parking lot. Of course, this was exactly as I had planned. It was a sunny Friday and I had spent all morning drinking water and cranberry juice to prepare for my show. The specifics of how it would go-- where, how and in front of who-- I hadn’t decided yet. This was going to be another impromptu (that’s the only kind of convincing public wetting anyways!!) and my quivering bladder was making me super excited. I wore my faded, light-blue, button-fly levis that some of you may recall me wearing on my first public wetting. Like all of my favorite jeans, they’re tight and form-fitting around my thighs and crotch. The legs on these are boot cut below the calf—not really skinny but not really flared either. And the worn seam always feels amazing rubbing against my bare clit as I walk! I fastened them with a leather belt and wore sandals and a simple v-neck, dark blue t-shirt to complete my casual, grocery shopper attire. The store was a little out of the way—certainly not one I usually go to. It was larger and a lot more crowded than my regular. The sheer volume of people walking around the entrance immediately turned me on. Thinking about all of those bystanders witnessing me piss myself tempted me to tease my bladder muscles. Grabbing a cart, I thought about how little effort it would take to let go and flood my jeans. But that’s not how I wanted my show to go. Not so soon. (I wanted to actually finish my grocery shopping if I could!) So I regained control, walked in, and joined the busy shopper circuit. I remember hearing the worn denim between my inner thighs brush against itself as I walked. At my first stop, the deli, a surprise wave of intense desperation hit me, and I had to cross my legs tightly together and hunch over to compose myself. There was so much to do before I could put on my show! And finding an appropriate opportunity might take even more time. I realized early on that this could be more difficult to make it through than my other stunts. There were quite a few items on my shopping list. (I honestly didn’t expect to be able to grab everything—I could have to abort the whole damn thing after all!!) But it actually became an exciting challenge. Looking back, it’s hard for me to determine exactly how long it took. I think my hand spent more time clutching my pussy than it did guiding the cart! The constant stimulation on my vagina was keeping me constantly aroused! My face felt flush most of the time and I caught myself using my distressed state as an excuse to subtly caress my clit through my jeans more and more frequently. Far more noticeable, surely, were my dancing knees and the constant pivoting of my weight from hip to hip. Indeed, a few people did notice my desperate behavior. One man in particular seemed extra interested. He followed me down a couple of aisles, keeping his distance but always with an unblocked view of me in his sights. (Of course, it’s possible it was just a coincidence and he was going about his business like everyone else. I acted unaware just in case he was looking—I don’t like to discourage admirers!) At one especially agonizing point, I caught sight of the employee bathrooms and felt my exhausted bladder convulse uncontrollably—but my firm grip over my urethra spared me a premature wetting. I really do think this new hobby of mine has weakened my bladder. It’s probably just psychological—knowing that, so long as I act like it’s an accident, I can piss myself anywhere I choose without any major public fallout. It really takes the edge off having to go! I was still a little nervous despite the acknowledgement. And, of course, it did nothing for the physical discomfort I was suffering. An ‘accident’ was clearly imminent. When I finally got all my things, I walked briskly to the checkout lines and picked a long one just to enhance my desperation! A part of me hated myself. I wanted nothing more than to pee my jeans right there. But I had just invested all this time into gathering mine and my husband’s weekly groceries. I’m pretty daring, I know, but I don’t think I could muster the courage to piss myself and then continue waiting in line like nothing happened! So I held my legs together, fists clenched by my side, bouncing on my knees, and waited. When it was my turn, and the conveyor belt was finally clear, I started to unload my cart. I finished before the woman in front of me had even got her checkbook out—she had just spent a lot of time scrutinizing the grocery selection (or expressing some other petty concern along those lines). It was an old woman, (Obviously! She looked like she got her hair permed every week), but seemed to be in good health. And she was very talkative with the cashier. A middle-aged man pulled up behind me, closing me in. Another woman with a full cart queued behind him as well. After some time of frivolous discourse between the poor cashier and her enthusiastic customer, a wave of desperation suddenly struck me. I crossed my legs, shifting my weight fully onto my left, and held them tightly together. It very quickly rose to an unbearable amount of pain. At the peak of my agony I couldn’t help but throw my cupped fingers over my pussy, my bladder pathetically quivering, and hunch over, grimacing with my teeth tightly clenched and my eyes firmly shut. I can’t remember what I was thinking in that moment but I’m sure it was nothing coherent! I do remember hearing the loud impact of my cupped fingers when they hit my crotch and the weird, shutter-groan noise I made to cope. I opened my eyes to see the cashier, bagger and old woman looking in my direction. I’m sure the people behind me took note as well. Embarrassed, (but also aroused with anticipation of the coming show) I found my nerve and regained my composure. Smiling tentatively to assure my cashier I was ok, I mustered a weak, “Hi” The old woman tactfully concluded her conversation and walked off with her loaded cart. The cashier, a young woman with neck-length, auburn hair, exchanged her obligatory, brief pleasantries with me, not delving into the topic of my obvious desperation, and started scanning my things with skillful haste. The bagger, too, followed suit—taking my cart and filling it methodically with my bagged groceries. It was excellent service! (I’m tempted to reveal the name of the grocery store but I’m afraid my story would yield more bad publicity than good!) When it was finally time to pay I hobbled to the card scanner and inserted my chip as soon as the total appeared on the screen. That wave of desperation that had eroded my decency earlier still felt far from subsiding though. In fact, standing still, waiting for the damn scanner to read the chip in my card, only made the pain mount even more! I pulled my card out and signed the little screen as prompted. Again, I had to brace my pussy tightly with my fingers to endure my desperation. This time though, (to save my dignity I suppose), I turned away from the cashier and bagger to face the people waiting behind me, leaning my hip against the side of the conveyor. My left arm was crossed over my abdomen holding my side and, with my right hand, I held my crotch firmly. I hunched over a bit with what must have certainly been an agonized expression on my face and maintained my composure as best I could. It was difficult, but I held back the flood gates. When the receipt printer sounded, signifying a shopping success, a part of my mind was put at ease. Still feeling desperate however, and still looking desperate, I dared myself to let out just a little. Enough to show but not enough to warrant a hasty escape! I didn’t bother looking to see if the people in front of me were watching-- that probably would have psyched me out! The trick with these shows is to just give in split second. So, holding my breath, I grimaced, quietly gasping when I felt my bladder muscles convulse… and then relax. There was a trickle of wetness and warmth against my fingers. Slowly, a dark spot emerged around my hand, growing down my inner thighs, expanding across my legs. I was surprised how much was escaping with how cautious I was being. Honestly I had just intended to feel it against my fingers! I looked up to meet the eyes of the two people waiting in line, but theirs were fixated on my crotch. They stared wordlessly: the man still unloading his groceries onto the conveyor and the woman standing patiently behind her cart. Both stared intently at my obviously growing stain. Social inhibitions took control and my pelvic muscles attempted to cut the stream. My bladder violently protested, urine still stubbornly pooling in my crotch, softly hissing. I could hear myself breathing heavily, my bladder was screaming louder at me with every passing moment. I wanted to give up. “Oh god,” I shuttered pathetically. I gave up. Intensely hot pee burst against the inside of my jeans-- against the pressure of my cupped fingers-- with a fierce manifest destiny! It hardly got a chance to pool beneath my crotch before shooting to the sides of my pelvis all the way to the seam, darkening the light blue color of the denim. Skinny golden streams erupted out of the fabric on my thigh, just below my pocket, arching outwards with force and splattering on the ground. I felt it shoot up my ass crack as well, dampening the crease between my cheeks. It had already formed a glistening stain halfway up my fly when I pulled my hand away from the torrent. “Oh god, oh god!” My piss appeared to be streaming against the surface of the denim now, rushing quickly down my legs. The man waiting stared silently, seemingly scornful. He was taken aback, definitely, but still composed. The woman behind him not-so-discretely, but certainly not without sympathy, exclaimed “oh dear”. My flight instinct took hold. It had only been moments but I couldn’t bear to face them anymore. I was shaking. Before my piss had a chance to form a puddle beneath me, I turned, grabbed my cart, and walked briskly to the exit. My hurried strides and immense embarrassment made it easier to cut the stream, though it persisted for a good many steps before finally ceasing. My bladder was still screaming at me but I was at least partially relieved. (I still really had to go, though) Hidden behind my cart, I was able to navigate to the exit without many people turning their heads. Some noticed in passing, of course. But they probably took note of my tearful sniffling and red face before seeing the glimmering stain all over my crotch. Yes, I had started crying. Don’t get me wrong—I was incredibly aroused. But I was also shaken up and relieved that I had allowed myself to lose control like that! Embarrassed but not sorry. It actually is a hard sensation to describe. For some reason, unlike every time before, it really hit home to me that I was a participant in the show rather than an observer. Looking into those people’s faces and hearing that woman’s response—I felt almost trapped in the moment. I kept thinking about the time I pissed myself in the crowded subway, standing less than a foot in front of a guys face! That was so much more public, yet that hadn’t worked me up nearly as much as this… Halfway to my car I was startled to hear a man’s voice, “Ma’am?” My heart dropped. Crazy thoughts rushed into my head. What if it was the store manager? What if he called the police? What would I tell my husband? I took a breath and spun to answer. It was the bagger, looking just as embarrassed as I felt. “I- I think I should-,” he didn’t quite know what to say. Finally he found the words, “let me help you load those into your car.” He was young and tall and the genuine sympathy in his voice quickly put me at ease. I wiped some teary dribble from under my nose and nodded, “Thank you.” I tried to give him the warmest smile I could muster. Maybe the nice cashier or one of my onlookers put him up to it. Or maybe he really did feel sorry enough for me to try and help. Whatever the case he had just run all the way out here to catch up with me and help in some way. I couldn't refuse. “I’m so embarrassed.” I took a moment to assess the damage more thoroughly. My jeans felt heavier with the extra water weight, and the initial warmth of my urine was quickly becoming colder-- it felt good in the blazing heat of the parking lot. The stain covered me pretty thoroughly—stretching from the front of my waistband to the back of my calves. I also couldn’t help but feel like this would be a perfect opportunity to relieve myself fully. (With a dedicated audience no less!) Standing still, even for that brief moment, reminded me that I was still bursting! “God I’m so mortified!” Mr. Bagger took my cart and walked beside me to my car. I made sure to waddle ahead of him, swaying my hips as I walked, enjoying the urinary lubrication between my butt cheeks, feeling his eyes follow my ass. He started telling me about how his mother suffered from incontinence. Apparently she had problems ever since his brother was born five years prior. Her problem wasn’t mine, of course, but I felt comforted by his story nonetheless. I had apparently staged a very convincing accident! My heart was fluttering. There was more to come. When we got to my car I reached for the trunk. I drive a Nissan rogue, so the trunk pulls open above my head. My strategy formulated itself very quickly. Clutching the handle with both hands, I pulled the trunk up and felt my bladder tinge from the full body stretch. It wasn’t enough to actually cause an involuntary release, but, with my legs held together tightly, I acted as though it had-- grimacing, gasping, and exerting all the Kegel strength I could muster. Piss erupted from my urethra with torrential power, rushing forcefully over my clit. It felt like a showerhead bringing me to ecstasy! I looked down and saw my stain begin to glisten again, hot urine surfacing through the denim, cascading down my legs, pouring through the cuts on the knees of my jeans. You could hear it loudly gushing against the inside of my button-fly. Hot urine streamed over my sandaled feet and toes, quickly forming a large puddle around me. Again, a lovely, yellow arch of piss burst through the denim of my outer thigh, just below the side of my pocket, splattering against the thin, plastic grocery bags in the cart parked just beside me. I looked over at my guy, breathing heavily with an open mouth, locking eyes with him, forming the most pathetic and distressed expression I could. I threw both my hands off the trunk handle and into my crotch, making a show of trying to stop the flood. Clutching my pussy made the hot piss expand farther along my pelvis—even my pockets turned dark with wetness. The sloppy sounds of flesh cupping water, squishing soaked fabric, mixed in with the rest of the liquid ensemble. I sighed with anguished relief and looked up at Mr. Bagger again, “God it just won't stop!” I managed an awkward, sniffly cry-laugh and wiped my eye with my shoulder. I was still peeing intensely hard. And I noticed the dark asphalt couldn’t drink my piss fast enough to slow the growth of my puddle. Mr. Bagger started unloading my cart and looked at me kindly (though I noticed he kept stealing glances at the piss pouring over my fingers and cascading down my legs.) He said something along the lines of, “Accidents happen. When you get home you can wash your clothes and take a shower. All of this will seem like it happened to someone else.” A special note to Mr. Bagger if you ever read this. One: sorry for the ruse—I did it for the sexual thrill! Hope you enjoyed the show! Two: you’re a really good person and you’ll make an excellent spouse someday! If I was fully and truly distressed that would have been even more comforting to hear than it already was! “You’re right,” I agreed with another sniffle. I dragged my hands from my crotch along the ‘v’ of my pelvis up to my hips. My torrent showed no signs of yielding-- it was beyond stopping at this point. I parted my legs a little and enjoyed the warm current coursing through my jeans. “I can’t stop,” I admitted. “I've never felt so relieved, though!” To that, Mr. Bagger and I shared a chuckle. The waterfall tapered off gradually until all that was left of my stream were the droplets falling from my wrinkles. I stood there, dripping, soaked from my waist to the soles of my feet, while my guy finished transferring all my bags. I let him take a five dollar bill from the pocket on my purse where I keep my money. I would have handed it to him myself but my fingers were still dripping with pee. He thanked me and grabbed my cart to take it to the cart-holder thing farther up the parking lot, stealing one final glance at my glistening jeans before turning to leave. Then I laid my towel over my driver’s seat, sat down, closed the door, and started the car. Without thinking, I unfastened my belt and tore my button fly open. It was harder than normal because of how soaked the denim was. But I managed to do it with one hand and started fingering myself vigorously. I suppose what follows is pretty self-explanatory! I hope you guys enjoyed my experience as much as I did! I know I teased this story a long time ago from my last post so hopefully the wait was worth it. This was written down a while ago but I never took the time to properly edit it until now. I’ve been pretty busy lately with work and my husband and I have traveled a little bit too. Needless to say I have a lot more experiences to share. Also I told him about this very public fetish and showed him all my stories! I think he was more amused than aroused at first, probably more turned on by how turned on wetting made me, but he’s learned to love it! He doesn’t like wetting himself though—which is fine. He enjoys the spectacle far more than the sensation I suppose! (Also he’s a big fan of my zipper discovery from my last story just like I had predicted. I have more experiences to share about that as well!!) I’ll make a tumblr to keep my posts on omo relevant to omo. When it’s made I’ll update you guys so you can continue to give me encouragement on all of my experiences. Ta ta for now! rachelkirwan, RobsRose79, wettingman and 23 others 23 1 1 1 Quote Link to comment
Brandie 177 Posted July 10, 2017 Share Posted July 10, 2017 Lovely experience! Thanks for sharing Quote Link to comment
OmoCommando 38 Posted July 10, 2017 Share Posted July 10, 2017 Wonderful as always! Can't wait to read more! Quote Link to comment
The Dark Wolf 1,746 Posted July 10, 2017 ✨ Legendary Member Share Posted July 10, 2017 You're a lot more daring than I am Quote Link to comment
illidan80 27 Posted July 10, 2017 Share Posted July 10, 2017 Your stories are just amazing! Thank you very much. You are arousing more people than yourself with this experiences! :D Quote Link to comment
amberpee 38 Posted July 10, 2017 Share Posted July 10, 2017 Oh gosh! I didn't think your stories could get any better, and then you go and do this! I will eagerly await your Tumblr announcement and see if any of your future adventures could possibly top this. Your hubby is very lucky! Quote Link to comment
wettingman 1,586 Posted July 10, 2017 Share Posted July 10, 2017 I absolutely loved this story, with all its lengthy, well written, richly detailed account of your supermarket wetting. Perhaps the bagger was an omo fan , or you turned him into one ! I have worked in a supermarket all my life and only remember one similar wetting in my presence . I would have loved this to be my second ! For now though I will imagine myself as your bagger friend because your story has me aroused like you were when it happened . Quote Link to comment
rachelkirwan 13,627 Posted July 10, 2017 🌟 OmoOrg VIP Share Posted July 10, 2017 Really well written, and I know that exact feeling well, the feeling of embarrassment mixed with a complicated hint of arousal. You described it very well!~ Quote Link to comment
Jonnyc 1 Posted July 10, 2017 Share Posted July 10, 2017 Wow, this is the first story of yours that I have read and will be looking for more. so well written, I felt as though i was in the store and watching myself. Thank you very much for sharing this. Quote Link to comment
WettingFan91 79 Posted July 10, 2017 Share Posted July 10, 2017 Wow what an experience I would have loved to be a part of!!! I love the details, that jeans wetting was one of the most sensually described wettings I've ever read :) Sounds like you were so desperate and peed so much, Im picturing such a great sight once you were out to the car letting it all out while grabbing yourself....loved out you walked in front of the bagger, feeling his eyes follow your ass....god I wish i was your bagger so badly lol :) Thanks for sharing! Quote Link to comment
satyr 1,314 Posted July 11, 2017 Share Posted July 11, 2017 Sounds like you got that bagger aroused (or at least intrigued) and confused at the same time. What a show. Quote Link to comment
BlueWetter 500 Posted September 13, 2017 Share Posted September 13, 2017 (edited) Wow, I felt like I was there watching! Edited September 13, 2017 by BlueWetter (see edit history) Quote Link to comment
BlueWetter 500 Posted September 13, 2017 Share Posted September 13, 2017 Here's another suggestion.. It's not totally a public wetting though. Go out somewhere in public and drink until you're starting to leak in your pants, then go for a nice long drive and let your pee flow! (with proper protection for the Nissan's seats) A highway may make for a good place to have a "secret pants wetting".. That is until you get out of the car to pump gas, get another drink and wet again on the way home.. If I was your passenger I would be in omo heaven! Quote Link to comment
WetDave 650 Posted September 13, 2017 Share Posted September 13, 2017 I'd work as a bagged unpaid for a year if it meant I could see a show like this! Truly, your description of the sensations and emotions of a public wetting are excellent. Quote Link to comment
jiffyomo 53 Posted September 13, 2017 Share Posted September 13, 2017 Damn honey that was awesome! I hope I see you at the grocery store some day! Quote Link to comment
BlueWetter 500 Posted September 14, 2017 Share Posted September 14, 2017 I was just in the grocery store and found myself thinking of a couple beautiful women having to go pee and what their pants would have looked like wet. Incredibly turned on right now.. Quote Link to comment
Guest Posted July 15, 2018 Share Posted July 15, 2018 Fantastic stuff. Also really liked your subway wetting. Courageous like few! Quote Link to comment
AnonymousOne 30 Posted July 16, 2018 Share Posted July 16, 2018 That was an incredibly sexy and exciting story, not to mention extremely well-written. And by the way, if you need someone to bag your groceries for you the next time you go food shopping, I would love to volunteer my services ?. This story reminded me of a time a few years ago when I ran to Trader Joe's to pick up something during lunchtime. The woman in front of me on the check-out line was wearing white yoga pants and very obviously needed to pee. She was doing the whole pee pee dance, leg-crossing, weight shifting thing, pretty much everything but grabbing her pussy. Althoiugh she didn't wet herself in the store, just watching her on the verge of peeing in her pants for that five minutes in line was incredibly exciting. wettingman 1 Quote Link to comment
Guest Wettishfettish Posted October 6, 2021 Share Posted October 6, 2021 You. Your stories. Your adventures. Everything about you is absolutely intoxicating. Pretty please, come back to omo.org and let us know how you've been! Quote Link to comment
Mariner62 1,555 Posted December 7, 2021 Share Posted December 7, 2021 I would have loved to witness something like this when I was bagging groceries. Quote Link to comment
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